Despite Protest
by DeflectedIntellect
Summary: And as she lay back her heart filled with an unwanted guilt. Because in her darkest thoughts, she knew she enjoyed it. Despite how much she wanted to protest.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them.

**Despite Protest**

In another time and place, in a different world, these cold walls would not mock. The guise of warmth and invitation would not cause her grief, and cause tears to slide down her cheeks of the memories these walls had witnessed.

Pain etched and marred the fine contours of her face. Crumpled the serenity of her eyes

In another time and place these walls had witnessed a love that was so sure that there was left little to the imagination of where the future held. The situation was an impossible one she knew. One of her own doing. But yet she couldn't help to feel the pang of heartache and rejection every time she saw him. Even though she knew why.

Within her heart she knew he loved her, cherished her, and would do anything for her if he could. But he couldn't now. And she hated herself for letting the need of his touch drive her to this point.

The fires of Heaven now coursed through Jace, and it made intimacy at length an impossible feat. Clary knew that she had to, and she was so grateful that her friends had found a way to separate him from Sebastian.

A pang, sharp and twisting went through her heart. I was all his fault. She knew she could never trust him. And doubly hated herself for her short time of confusion in which she thought that maybe, just maybe he had a heart. She had begun to call him Jonathan. His given name. To her it was a sign of her hesitant acceptance. However fleeting the moment had passed. And she had realized what was the truth.

Jace, appearing to her with his mind intact had solidified and cemented her resolve to despise her brother and disown the idea that they had been born from the same two people. Sebastian, was the name she called him now. A symbol of her rejection. However small the effort. And though he couldn't hear her. It gave her a sense of separation from him. To separate the acknowledgement of their blood.

And yet despite her victory in separating the boy she loved from the boy she loathed. It seems she freed him only to bind him in another way.

He rarely touched anyone and often closed himself off from others. Refusing to risk an accident in which he might unwittingly harm, or do something worse to the people he cared about.

And Clary missed him. So much so that the ache pulsed through her. Seized her heart in a vice and clenched it. Sometimes the shock as a jolt of emotion shot through her made her fall other knees.

Most days she hid this from the others. A weak excuse and fake smile that she knew everyone could see through. But it didn't matter…

And in her darkest moments she wished for the dimension house and the warmth the altered Jace who held her while she slept. Because even though he was bound to Sebastian, he was free to touch her. And because of Brother Zachariah she knew that at his core she was his world.

Damn the morals of her heart though. Knowing he was a free spirit and that he would hate to live like that no matter if they were together or not.

Clary lay awake in her room at the institute. Her eyes fixated on a spot on the ceiling that was illuminated by the pale moonlight that filtered in through the high arched window. It had been months since her time in the dimension house. Time seemed to have both passed slowly and also as if none had passed at all.

She could remember her time there with such Clarity that she could close her eyes and seemingly relive the moments. Only to open her eyes again and shudder as she felt the ache of longing for Jace's touch.

Lately he had become so afraid to hurt her that he didn't even want to hold her hand. And even though she understood his reasoning's. It was frustrating. Not to mention cause rift in their relationship. To her even if they were next to each other, they might as well be oceans apart.

She shifted her gaze to stare out the window. Remembering a similar vision with the memory of warm golden arms circling around her.

She closed her eyes and as she fell asleep another face filled her thoughts. Of a boy with pale hair and dark haunting eyes. Eyes that scared her. Not because of whom they belonged to, but because despite her vehement protesting, knew that he could see right through her.

Something was vaguely familiar about the situation. She was fighting with Sebastian in the dimension house. He was hovered over her, and had just reached down to fumble with the button of her jeans. Shock coursed through her and she hit him in his distraction. He was momentarily caught off guard. But that was all the time she needed.

She wrestled with him switching their position so she was straddling him a piece of glass gripped in her bloody hand.

His laughter filling the room. A twinge of familiarity shivered through her causing her to shift. But in doing so she suddenly became acutely aware of the body under her.

The sinewy musculature, lean and roped over strong bone. His body pulsing with adrenaline vibrated under her as his laughter made his body rumble.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe. Her heart hammering as she lost focus, lost to the sensation of the feel of the body under her. The air was rushing in and out of her nose in short labored bursts as she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

The boy under her stopped and gave her a quizzical look, cocking his head to the side. He brought his hands to her hips unsure. She could tell he was preparing himself to throw her of at a moment's notice.

With a loud scream she brought the glass down inches from his neck, but this time she didn't sit back up. Her face had stopped inches from his so close his breath washed over her face. One hand pressed to the floor for support the other rested on his chest. She could feel the hard sure pounding of his heart thrum against her palm. She afraid to move though her heart was racing as well.

Silence filled the room until she couldn't stand it any longer, and as if she couldn't control herself she whispered leaning closer to barely brush her lips against his.

"A garden kept is your sister."

And then her lips were on his hard, the hand on his chest moved to thread through the pale bloodied strands of his hair.

At first the boy under her seemed frozen, but then like a parched man he sprang to life as he drank of his sister's kiss. And her body trembled from the pleasure of it all.

It was like a release, all the pent up frustration now had a place to go.

He rolled her over, glass crunched under her back, but she ignored it. The boy's deft lips left a blazing trail over her jawline and neck. He nipped at her collarbone and his fingers slithered over her skin.

Somewhere in her hazy thoughts she knew this was all wrong that this was not how things had went, but her mind was overcome by the sheer intensity of the pleasure she was experiencing, she was unwilling to stop and assess the situation.

This time when she felt his fingers at her jeans button, she didn't stop him. This time she reached up and tore at his shirt ripping it from his pale bloody flesh. Exposing a torso chiseled and defined. Her hands splayed across it were somewhat stark. Even as light as her own skin was, his was lighter still.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her returning her mouth to his. She felt his own hands and strong arms move under her and lift her effortlessly. And then they were moving. She didn't know where to, but it wasn't long before her back was pressed painfully to a wall, his body follower to hold her there. Hips grinding into her core to elicit an involuntary moan that resonated from deep within her. His own rumbling deep and animalistic in response.

His hands gripping her shit and ripping it much in the same way she had his and then pulling it from her body. Her arms lifting automatically as his fingers slipped under her bra and pulled it over her head.

For a moment he stopped and just stared at her. She didn't know what to do, but to stare at him back, resting her hands on his shoulders tightening her legs around him as she saw his eyes darken even more as he took the sight of her in.

Then his lips were on hers in a heated frenzy that left her breathless. She held on to him as she dropped her legs then keeping her lips on his as she finished undoing her jeans and pushed them down her legs as fast as she could. When she stood again she was in a cage of his arms. One pressed to the wall on each side of her head. And he was panting hard.

Her eyes on his she slowly pressed her palms to his chest. His muscles rippling where she touched him. Slowly she slid her hands down to his hips, keeping her eyes on his as she deftly undid his belt and unbuckled his pants. The sound of the zipper as it was undone was magnified in the quiet room save for only the heavy breaths that rushed raggedly from their chests.

She was nervous and felt empowered at the same time. The darkness that seemed to fill his eyes with desire served only to make her bolder as she reached inside the confines of the fabric to wrap her small hand over and around hard silken flesh and draw it out.

His head fell on her shoulder, turning to nuzzle at her neck. Tentatively she encircled the shaft wither her hand and gently stroked it. She felt a shudder run through his body. So she continued to move her hand over him. Slow and gentle. Unsure of what to do, her movements instinctual. She felt him move pressing into her hand and retracting, the movement coming quicker as his lips began to pepper her neck coupled with little nips and the grazing of sharp teeth.

She began to tremble again as his mouth moved over the flesh at the curve of her neck, her hand moving quicker over his shaft. Finally her other hand found his hair and pulled him back only to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. It was demanding and each fought against each other for control. Neither relinquishing, but melding together in a way that had them both gripping at each other once again. Her other hand having stopped and moved to his neck to pull him closer. One leg coming up to wrap around his hip. And as his hard flesh brushed past her core briefly she gasped.

Then just as quickly his large hands reached down and cupped her bottom and hoisted her up against the wall again and guided her legs around his waist. He ground against her harshly, unrelenting, but never entering her. It was agonizing. Just when she though he might his hips would move in a way that prevented it from happening yet again.

She was on fire. And there was an ache, a need so intense that she whimpered in his ear as he bit at her neck.  
"Please." She whispered. Her voice husky and pleading.

"Please what Clarissa?" He whispered. His voice shaky as though he was struggling with something. As his lips moved against the shell of her ear she shivered again.

"Jonathan, please….take..me."

With an animal like groan he moved suddenly, positioning himself, then gazed into her eyes as he, without preamble filled her. And as she screamed he swallowed it as his mouth pressed to hers.

The sudden sharpness, the unbridled stretch that seemed impossible. The tense corded muscles that her nails ha dug into as she sheathed himself rippling under her hands. And then he started to move. At first it was painful, but in a way that left her feeling full. A fullness that was unlike she had ever felt before.

It was heady and intoxicating, and soon pleasure was filling her and making her toes curl and she held on for dear life. He pounded her into the wall. Their grunts and moans filling the room until she could feel something within her growing and tightening, coiling in a way that had her screaming his name and her nails dragging across his back trails of blood marring the already heavily scarred flesh.

Her eyes involuntarily fell shut suddenly her body tensed and she curled around him so tight that she didn't know what to do except to dig her teeth into shoulder. This only caused him to quicken his pace. The erratic movement suddenly stopped as he shoved himself within her as hard as he could pressing her even more into the wall to the point of being painful.

His body trembling as it seemed to quake within her. The pulse teasing her already sensitized core and making her whimper.

When he body relaxed she slowly opened her eyes then gasped.

There over the boys shoulder standing in the doorway was another boy. One with golden locks, and a pained shocked expression.

Clary sat up in bed panting hard clutching at her chest. Her skin was clammy from sweat and tingled with remembered touches. And as she lay back her heart filled with an unwanted guilt. Because in her darkest thoughts, she knew she enjoyed it. Despite how much she wanted to protest.

**AN~ I do hope you enjoy. This is just a tidbit that I got carried away with. I will be trying to catche the muse for my the story My Brother's keeper. But until them this one is being nice to me so Im gonn apay attention. Writers block sucks so im gonna run with this until I can get motivated for the other. I do hope you enjoy though. Please REVIEW! Thanks. ~ D.I**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

It was a dream, just a dream. Nothing more. She chided herself, and then sighed as she sat down with a huff on her bed. Shaking her head she covered her face with her hands and scrubed at it. As though she could somehow wipe away the images, the touch, and most of all the guilt. She sat there confused as to why her brain would conjure up such a thing. Sebastian of all people! To infiltrate her subconscious and deliver such sweet ecstasy. She groaned.

"Damn it" she muttered as a small tingle extended throughout her extremities. She stood again shaking out her hands and began to pace again. This had been her ritual since she had gotten up a couple hours ago.

After trying to scrub her body. And even though in her dream she had felt her tension uncoil, it seemed to have come back. Threefold.

She itched to text or call someone. To share her feelings. But who could she share this with? Dreaming of her brother, sexually? Everyone she thought of would condemn her. And Jace, oh god, what would he think of her then? The image of him catching them in her dream. If it had been real she didn't know what she would do. But at the same time she was torn.

Because for a brief flicker, just before she was jarred awake by her own shock of the situation her brain had created. She had felt safe in her brother's arms, revered in his eyes, and for a moment she just hadn't cared that she had been caught. And those feelings had scared her more than the rest of it. Because what did that say about her? Was her subconcious messing with her? Was that how she really felt?

She was over thinking she knew, but she couldn't help it. Her dream had twisted her need made it beautiful but with a demon, and in the end she had relished every second of it.

After analyzing it over and over. She wondered what if that had really happened. What if she had really given in to Sebastian back then? Where would they be now? Dead. She suddenly thought of the rune she had etched into the doorway. And then she thought that she would never see Jace again because when her judgment came, she would be in hell with Sebastian, while Jace went to Heaven.

She thought back to all the moments she had shared with Sebastian, and his looks made more sense to her now. Why hadn't she realized? Her only conclusion was that she was so focused on trying to find an ulterior motive that she failed to see one. That her mind was so bias in trying to find a specific kind of motive that she blinded herself to all of them.

Yes he was evil and what he had planned was obviously demented, but she never thought that there was more than one reason for her being there. She though that he only allowed her there because of Jace, and that her being his sister was an added bonus of familial ties. Not that he wanted her…..he wanted her.

Clary sighed again, and had to remind herself of all the crazy heinous acts of evil he had committed. To try and outweigh the images that seemed to be stuck in replay in her mind. Of rough hands and heated kisses.

A knock at the door made her jump and her heart was suddenly in her throat.  
"Clary?"

Jace's voice came through the door, hesitant.

She took a moment to calm herself and smooth down her hair. Wiping her hands on her pants just before she opened the door.

"Hey." She said, giving him a warm smile. And having to force herself not to react when her mind replayed the dream version of him and the expression he had had.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go with me down to the kitchens to eat?"

He seemed shy and wary. The faint glow of his skin creating an ethereal quality that made his already angelic looks just that much more alluring. And man how she wanted to reach up and grab him by his shirt collar and yank him into her room and ravish him. But instead she forced a calm smile and nodded. Swallowing thickly as she looked down and turned to close her door. Giving herself a moment to regroup mentally before following him.

In the kitchen Clary sat there picking at her pizza, not really eating. It had been an hour since they had pulled it out of the oven and yet she had only managed to eat half the topping on her slice. While Jace had eaten the rest of the pizza and cleaned up.

"I've been meditating. Trying to calm myself to see if I can work on damage control."

She looked up at him unable to help the flicker of hope that tickled at her heart.

"How is it going?"

"Not sure. I've been too afraid to test it out." He gave her a nervous glance and her heart sped up.

"But you're ready now?" she got up pizza forgotten and slowly started to make her way towards him. His eyes widened as she saw her eyes and then held his hands up. But she was so focused on the thought of touching him again that she didn't stop moving towards him as he retreated.

"Clary, now wait. I'm not sure yet. And.." he broke off, a pained expression flickered across his face. This causing her to stop in her tracks. The image of him in her dream and the reality were so similar.. Guilt flooded her. Though he mistook her actions.

"I'm sorry." She said, backing up. Her eyes wide and scared as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Then stuffed her hands in her pockets and bit her lip looking away.

"No, it's me. You have nothing to be sorry about. I should have waited until I knew for sure. It's just I, .. I miss you. I know I see you every day and we talk, but it's not the same."

"I know." She said softly looking down.

Carefully he lifted a hand to gently place a finger under her chin forcing her to look up at him. The touch burned. Not from Heaven's fire, but from him. It was the first time in weeks that he had dared to let his skin touch hers. The feel of such a simple gesture. The fleeting gentle pressure of the calloused pads of his fingertip as it pressed to her skin. So familiar and yet it was foreign. Jace had always been sure of himself. Confident in all of his actions, and even when he wasn't, his practiced moves belied the truth. And so this tentative touch was new. The vulnerability displayed caught her breath and she moved closer, catching his hand and pressing it to her cheek.

She felt him stiffen, but not move. His breathing ragged as he spoke.

"If it hurts you Clary….I don't…" she held up a hand to his lips cutting him off.

She closed her eyes savoring the feel of his hand. It had been so long and yet she craved more. So much more from the boy in front of her.

"Kiss me." She breathed softly. He jerked his hand back startling her. Her eyes popping open blinking a few times wondering what was wrong.

"No!"

"Jace, please?" she looked at him. Fear and hurt swimming her eyes at his abrupt rejection.

"Clary did you not just hear me? If I hurt you.. No, I can't. I won't." He was backing up trying to put distance between them.

"Don't you want me anymore?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She knew the answer, but in this moment she could only feel the ache of her need, and the bitter taste of rejection weighing heavy on her heart. He gave her an incredulous look.

"Are you serious right now? Clary? I love you. Of course I want you. How could you ever doubt that?" She shook her head at his words.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just. I hate this." She gestured between them. "I can't touch you. You won't touch me. I see you and I want to kiss you so bad it hurts, but I can't. And then to top it off…" and here she stopped unsure if she should bring it up. Unsure of how he would react.

"What Clary?" He asked her. His voice strained as he turned to look away from her. His jaw clenching and unclenching. She sighed.

"I think about our time at the dimension house." She whispered quietly. "How you could hold and kiss me whenever you wanted. Even though I know that it wasn't really you…There were times that I would find myself forgetting." She looked down. "I was happy to be in your arms every night while I slept. Our date in Venice. I remember them, and now…" she paused to look up at him, a tear slipping from her eye. "It's like your you, but not again. Except this time I can't touch you." She saw him flinch, and continued on. "Jace I love you so much and while I'm glad you're not bound to him anymore. I wish I never stabbed you with that blade. If I could have stabbed him then I would. But I can't help but feel like there is a chasm opening up between us, or a thick glass window. Cause you're here. I see you, you're so close and yet….." she shrugged helplessly.

He turned to her eyes incredulous." You wish you never unbound me from Sebastian?"

She frowned, "Not like that. I'm happy you're not connected to him anymore. I am! But sometimes I just wish I could hold you again and we could be like we were in that house. Because before all that happened you were distant then too! I mean I know you were under Lillith's influence, but for those few brief weeks. I felt like I had you back, and even though I know it was wrong.. I. LOVED. IT." She shook her head. "I don't know what to say. I feel horrible and I don't know what to think of myself because when I'm with you everything makes sense and I don't feel lost. But now, now I feel lost and disconnected. And before you start. I understand that it's not your fault and I know you're just trying to protect me. But …god I don't know what I even want. But I just.. need… I need to feel you."

She let out a breath all the energy drained from her. Admitting something like this was heart wrenching for her. Let alone what she knew it might be doing to him. She looked up when she heard his voice.

"Clary, I can't risk it. I'm sorry. You won't have to see me then if it hurts to do so."

She gaped at him eyes wide. But before she could recover and protest. He was gone out of the kitchen. By the time she made it out into the hall he was nowhere to be seen. Damn his speed.

This was not what she wanted at all. Tears began to well in her eyes as panic set in. She did the only thing she could. She ran to her room.

**Later that night~**

Clary sat at her desk staring at her sketch pad. Tears streamed down her face. How could she face him? Face anyone? She couldn't stay here yet she didn't know where to go. And if she left then she knew they would just try to track her. So here she sat focusing on the blank sheet her pencil poised above it and she thought the word, untraceable. Put her feelings into the though. Not wanting to be found. Untraceable. Her eyelashes fluttered as her pencil came down to the paper and began to move as if of its own volition. A few moments later Clary looked at the new rune it sweeping strokes and intricate detail.

She then grabbed her stele and carved the rune into her inner arm, along with several more on various other parts of her body. Including an invisibility rune to hide from mundanes.

Not that she needed to, but it was very late at night, and she didn't want to risk running into someone she might have to hurt. Thinking she was a weakling. She had more important things to worry about and deal with at the moment.

Deep down she knew leaving wasn't the answer. But she just couldn't do it anymore. She knew everyone would be confused. She thought the only person who could understand her heartache would be Alex. His break up with Magnus had left the boy down right emo. His daily routine executed in a mechanical way. There was no excitement or joy in his eyes. He just seemed empty.

Clary was beginning to understand the boy much better. But unlike Alex. She had no real ties here. No real responsibilities. And while she loved her mother. There was a lot of unresolved tension that strained that relationship as well. So she decided it was time to leave.

She wasn't sure where she was going or what she would do. But whatever it was or wherever it was. That place no longer included New York. At least not right now. This city would always be her home and hold a special place in her heart. But there was so much pain here too.

After she finished marking herself with the runes, she put on her Shadowhunter jacket, strapped on her weapons belt, and put on her green overcoat. The one Luke had gotten her. Stuffed her sketch book into a duffle and then swung it onto her shoulder. Taking one last look around her room at the institute she marked a portal rune into the wall and when the doorway shimmered, she took a deep breath and stepped through.

**AN- I do hope you all are enjoying this. I hope that this chapter explained a bit more about what was happening in the last one. Just in case I wasn't clear. Please Review *heart* D.I**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3~**

It had been a week since she had left. Always on the move. She had to reapply the untrackable rune once a day. She was tired and hungry and lost. Not physically, but mentally. She had to figure something out. Had to figure out a plan. A more permanent way to protect herself from being found. Not only from her mother and her friends, but also from the Clave. She should have been thinking about hiding from Sebastian as well, but she was having a hard time arguing that point to herself. Not because she wasn't scared of him. Because she was terrified. But for the simple fact that she had been dreaming about him every time she was able to sleep. Or catching herself daydreaming about him.

She chastised herself for doing so but each dream she became more comfortable in his presence, bolder, and familiar. She wondered how she would react to him if he appeared right then?

She wasn't sure. And even though she wanted to talk about it to someone. That idea was out the window. He had caused too much pain to all her friends, even to her. But for some reason, an unfathomable reason she was forgiving him. Not for the pain he inflicted on other. But for the pain he caused her. Which in truth wasn't very much.

He had never really outright attacked her until they were in dimension house, and then even as he did. He was trying to make her see his point. Not trying to make excuses for him. But she thought that he was only playing with her because he could have easily killed her. Countless times, and yet he hadn't. She chalked it up to his twisted way of negotiating.

That was it. She needed to do something.

**A few weeks later.**

Clarly pulled her hood up over her head, bracing herself against the stiff wind. She was walking though what might as well have been a labyrinth of back alleyways and paths. Winding her way through a dense area of Paris. She didn't know the names of the streets or landmarks. But had been told a name in which she created a rune to track it.

Finally coming to a doorway she rapt lightly on a large bright blue painted door, and waited. A portly man with large grey eyes and sandy colored hair answered the door. He gave her a once over and frowned deeply.

"What do you want nephillim?"

"You are the Warlock Dominick Pierre?"

"Dom Pierre. " He sighed. "I hate the name Dominick, and yes that's me, and you still haven't answered my question."

"I need your help with something."

He quirked a brow, looking her up, "And how do you expect to pay? You don't look like someone who has anything of worth to me."

Clary looked from side to side checking down the path on either side of herself then looked up at him. "May I come in?"  
Tilting his head to the side he stepped aside and let her in. after closing the door, she lowered her hood and his eyes widened.

"I know who you are now. That hair is unmistakable. You're the Morgenstern girl."

"Clarissa." She specified. She would have said Clary but that was much too personal for her.

"The Clave is searching for you, and also rumor has it your brother is as well."

She faltered at that but recovered quickly.

"Yes well, I've been able to keep myself hidden rather well, but it's become rather taxing. Which is why I'm here. I've also heard a rumor that you know how to do dimension magic."

He smirked. The pride in his eyes evident. She thought how vain he must be to not keep such a skill hidden. She thought dimension magic was dangerous and could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. Not that she wasn't going to take advantage if she could but still.

"I do. But that kind of work is very expensive, and you my dear are on the lam. So I doubt you can afford my prices anyway."

She nodded. "I thought as much, which is why I thought maybe we could work out a deal." Reaching into her duffle she pulled out a single sheet of parchment and handed it to him. Raising a brow he took the sheet with a hint of skepticism playing in his grey eyes, but when he looked over the page both brows shot up and his eyes became as big as saucers.

"Is this?"

"It is a page from the white book. I have a few more. I personally don't know what they mean, but I'm sure you do. That page will be my down payment the rest will be received upon delivery."

The warlock looked at the small girl and then back to the page in his hand. And then nodded. "Alright. So there are two ways to do this. I can build you a house within the space or you can find a house and I can envelope it within the space. Which would you prefer?"

"I want you to build the house with these specifications. I don't know how to draft specifically but I trust you'll get the picture if I give you a list of what I want."

He nodded. "I can."

"How long?" She asked handing him the list.

"It can be ready by the end of the week. You're welcome to stay here until then. Just keep doing whatever you're doing to keep yourself hidden. I don't need the Clave or your brother storming in here looking for you. Neither of them. But mostly your brother as I value my life, at least the clave would imprison me first. "he smiled ruefully. She simply nodded, and followed him to a spare room. Which she locked from the inside not only with the lock but with a special rune.

**One week, two days later.**

Clary had spent the better part of her week traveling and gathering items for her new place. There were several special items on her list that required special care, and were now sitting the new vault of her new home.

Her home. She still couldn't believe that she had pulled it off. She looked down at her hand, there on her finger was a delicate white gold ring with an emerald surrounded by onyx. A large M in the center. On the desk was another ring, a little larger with an Onyx in the center surrounded with emeralds that had a large M in the center.

She took a deep breath and began to draw in her sketch book. She had wanted to contact her brother but had no idea how to do that without alerting the Clave of her whereabouts as well. And she didn't know where Jonathan was hiding these days.

Jonathan.

She often thought she was going crazy after a few times of catching herself thinking his real name instead of Sebastian, she finally had given up. He had invaded her dreams and there was no point in fighting it any longer. She was resigned to hell in a hand basket, neatly tied with a blood red bow.

Her pencil scratched along the paper carefully she worked in the detail. The picture being of something that she knew by heart. She had seen it so many times in her dreams. It was a profile, of Jonathan. The part that she paid the most attention to being his ear. When she was done she took a deep breath and marked a little rune near the ear. She had no idea if it would work but she had to try. She reached her hand into the drawing and stroked the ear. It felt real. The smooth flesh gave way to the gentle stoke of her finger.

Jonathan sat in a leather chair glaring at nothing in particular a blade in one hand, the tip stuck in the arm rest was twisting in a slow circle. While the other hand held a brandy snifter. So lost in his thoughts he barely registered the light tickle on the shell of his ear, but then turned his head quickly. Only to see nothing. His dark eyes narrowed as they darted about the little hovel. Barely a hole in the wall. Anything bigger and he would risk exposure.

Damn Clary for blowing up his house. His perfectly safe extravagant house. With all of those weapons and ugh! He threw the brandy snifter against the wall and sat back. His ear twitched feeling something touch it again. He looked around and then froze when an unmistakable whisper sounded close, as if she were right next to him even though he knew without a doubt that she wasn't.

"Jonathan?" Her soft breath whispered. "Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern?" He heard again in a sing-song voice. "I think you should strongly consider having some hot chocolate." Then he could have sworn he felt lips lightly brush at his lobe. And then it was gone and so was her voice.

He got up put on his weapons belt, and then a long coat and left.

When he got to the little café, he pushed through the door and eyed the room. Critically making sure it wasn't a trap. A frail looking woman with a stained apron approached him. Her voice thick with age as she asked him in French if she could help him. He told her he was looking for someone and then was surprised when she asked if his name was Jonathan. He nodded and watched her smile as she hustled away, only to return a few moments later with a small black box tied with an emerald ribbon. He took it and thanked her and took a seat shaking his head while a cup of hot chocolate was prepared for him.

Inside the box was a ring and a note.

The note read.

_Jonathan,_

_That ring is a key. I trust you know how to use it. But first before you join me. I must ask a favor. There is a Warlock. Dom Pierre. He knows where I am, and how to get to me, and he also knows that I'm having you join me where I am. I do not want to risk that knowledge getting to The Clave or anyoen else. Please do me a favor and tie up this loose end, then come find me. He is in the Latin Quarter look for a large blue door. I've scrawled a little rune on the top left hand corner. I made it really small, but I'm not sure if he could tell it was there. Best of luck, and I hope to see you soon._

_Your little sister._

_Clary Morgenstern_

A slow smile began to form on his lips as he thought 'What have you been up to sister of mine?' He knew that name of the Warlock, had heard rumors of his ability to perform dimension magic, and had been looking for him. But he had been elusive. He eyed the ring in his hand then slipped it on, slipped a few coins on the table and left before taking a drink.

**A couple hours later**

Jonathan wiped his blade off on his pant leg and then tucked it into his belt. Looking around he grabbed a sack and started putting things into it. Not much, but little things he thought might be worth something. Some books. Some pieces of parchment. Trinkets, gems and stones he felt he could trade. Anything that would fit in the sack and he could carry. When he was finished he lifted his hand with the ring on it and brought his other hand to twist it slightly.

A moment later he found himself in a cozy looking living room. There was a large Flat screen in the middle of a wall and across from that there was a fireplace. In the middle was a long leather couch with two smaller but still rather large chairs. Next to that there was a wall that had sliding glass doors that opened up into what looked like an atrium with a pool surrounded by plants and flowers of many shapes and colors. The glass staring out into a dark star filled sky. He couldn't tell where they were though. Turning he saw that the living room turned into a kitchen with an island in the middle and a long breakfast bar. In the back tucked into an alcove made of glass was a large dining table. All the fixtures in the kitchen were black, the counters a dark green marble. I bit further back was a set of stairs nestled in between the kitchen and a set of double doors.

He opened them and stared. The room was huge and open. In one corner were a few practice dummies, there was a punching bag, and then a few archery targets. And along the wall were weapons. Not many. A sword or two, some daggers and a couple throwing knives. But there was space to add more. He could already imagine filling up the empty spaces on the wall. Backing out he closed the doors quietly and then looked up the stairs walking carefully, keeping his eyes and ears alert for anything.

The first door to the left revealed a small studio. No doubt for her art. A desk with a large lamp set up in front of a large bay window, several shelves with various things, Pencils, paints. Stacks of books and other miscellaneous things.

Across the hall was another room, it had a desk with a high-backed leather chair. With a bookcase built into the walls. A study perhaps? The room seemed rather masculine for her. Perhaps she made it for him. He smirked and shook his head wondering what she was playing at.

The next room had walls lined with shelves. Some books on some. A few items on others. And then set in the wall was a large metal door with a rune scrawled on it. Something like a locking rune, but somehow he didn't think he would be able to open it. Looking on the shelves he saw a few little statuettes that seemed peculiar, and the books seemed old as well. Taking one down he opened it to find information on rituals, dark ones at that. He put the book back in its place. 'Seriously? This is unreal' He thought. Not for him, but Clarissa?

Since when did she dabble in dark rituals and since when did she have the means to get this space created. Not that he was going to complain. If he was one thing, it was an opportunist.

At the end of the hall the final door opened up into a rather large bedroom. One wall had two small doors. One had a large ornate J on it and the other a C. On the other side of the room was an open door that he could see was a bathroom. The room itself had several small witchlight stones placed around the place. Not as bright as if he were holding one, but enough so that it was reminiscent to moon glow. And in the center nestled between two large windows was a large four poster bed. With sheer hangings that created an almost ethereal halo around the canopy. Moving closer he could make out the faint outline of someone in the bed. Her curls dark in the dim light surrounding her head. Her soft curves barely covered in the warm room by only a thin sheet. She wore a nightgown he could tell. But what color he didn't know. Only that it looked like it hugged her just as much as the sheet.

Setting the sack down, he took off his jacket and weapons belt. Then his shoes, careful to not make a noise to disturb the sleeping girl. He carefully pulled back the sheet and crawled in next to her, delicately folding himself around her back so that he was spooning her. He lay there for a few moments but then couldn't help himself. His fingers slid along her creamy arm then wrapped around her waist as his face buried in her hair he he took a deep breath.

She stirred murmuring softly then sleepily looked over her shoulder and smiled.

"You came." Her voice was lazy, but held a tone in it that to him seemed so accepting and happy. He smiled cockily.

"You know little sister, an exchange of rings in our world is a very significant thing." She grinned and nodded turning to face him she tucked herself in closer wrapping an arm around his waist while she forced one of her smaller legs in between his effectively tangling them together.

"Clary?" He ventured.

"Hmm?"

"What is this?" He knew she knew what he was talking about when she moved her head back and looked up at him.

"Amends." She looked sad then her voice quivering slightly, "I destroyed your house so I got another one for …..Us."

"Us?" She nodded and looked up at him with a vulnerability that he had never seen on her face before.

"You said we belong to each other." His brow creased when she spoke his grip on her tightening.

"Are you sure? If you betray me this time I swear upon Lillith I will kill you Clarissa." She bit her lip then tilted her head up and gently pressed her lips to his in a way that to her seemed almost natural. Except that it shouldn't have been. But she had dreamt of him so much that she no longer was afraid. And when she pulled back she whispered, "I'm sure." While she stared into his dark eyes.

**AN~ Im so excited for this story. Im really enjoying writing it. I do hope everyone is enjoying reading it. Please PLEASE let me know what you think. *Heart* D.I.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jonathan was usually a light sleeper, but somehow when he woke up that next morning. He was alone. Stretching out, he felt like it had been a long time since he had slept so well. His hand sliding over the space where his sister had been. It was cold. He got out of bed and went into the bathroom.

Light grey and green tiles lined the walls in one inch tiles. Black counter with his and her sinks with plantinum fixtures. The floor a black marble with streaks of silver running through it. There was a large deep claw foot tub and a walk in shower. The kind that had several shower heads in various positions. Even one that was the size of a plate that was directly on top. He'd seen one before. The water coming out like rain.

Grey/green rugs and black towels. And on the counter near one of the sinks was a cup with a toothbrush still in its package. As he opened it, he marveled inwardly at how much care his sister had taken in the place, but also wondered how she did it. She must have supplied a small fortune to the Warlock to begin with to even get the house in the space. Dimension magic wasn't easy he knew. Valentine had taken years to find the last place and then had spent the equivalent of what it might cost to purchase a small country to the warlock who supplied him with the last house. And here was his sister in a brand new one. That she got for them no less. Not to mention there was stuff in it. And not junk stuff either. He could tell that that little furniture that was in here wasn't cheap. And it was tasteful. Also that she had provided things with him in mind.

She knew he favored the dark colors, but she also mixed in bit of her. Them. It wasn't just her space it was his, and he could see the sentiment intertwined within it.

After he finished brushing his teeth and washing his face, he made his way downstairs. Looking around he saw no sign of her, and worried for a moment that she had left. Until he heard her. It was like a grunting scream followed by several dull thuds. He followed the sound, which he discerned was coming from the training room. Quietly opening the door.

There she was in a pair of trainers and black yoga pants with a pale yellow sports tank. She was currently standing in front of a thick post that had several arm thick pegs sticking out the side in various positions, and she was executing a series of complicated moves that involved hitting the pegs in a specific way, like a little routine ending the series with a roundhouse where she kicked the main post eliciting a quiet cracking noise. Amused, he thought that if it had been him kicking the post it would have broken. Nevertheless a sliver of pride filled him that she could at least make the wood groan in such a way.

"I think women should always be made to wear yoga pants." He drawled smirking as she turned quickly to face him then bent slightly to rest her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

She was beautiful he thought. Sweaty from working out. Her hair tied up in a messy bun. The little hairs along the hairline sticking to her damp skin. She was small, but he could see the difference in her now from what she was before. Such a small thing indeed. But curvaceous and firm. Yet he knew she was still soft.

"Morning Jonathan." She said in between pants as she made her way towards him. "I was just working out." She grabbed a small towel that she used to wipe her face and then a water bottle that she took a long drink from.

"I couldn't tell." He chuckled as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Are you hungry?" He shook his head; she nodded and started to walk out of the room. He followed her, his eyes appreciating the view. Then looked back up when she began to speak again. "You've probably seen the basics. Living room, Kitchen, Training room" she gestured in kind. "The atrium has a heated pool and a Jacuzzi." He lifted a brow and she shrugged. "I didn't see the harm. Besides the last house was so closed in. I figured an atrium would give the illusion of being able to go outside, without actually leaving. Anyway." She began walking up the stairs. "This room on the right is yours. I thought maybe a study, but your free to do whatever you like." She stopped and turned to look at him. "I wanted you to be able to have your own space." She smile nervously and then continued on. "The one on the left is mine, and then this room," She entered the one with the shelves and the locked door. "This is a library of sorts, along with the vault." He blinked. Did she say vault?

"I want to see inside."

"Alright." She nodded pulling her stele from behind her back, he caught a glimpse of her skin, and then she was moving towards the door, where she quickly worked a small rune into the corner.

"It will open for you as well; you just need to put the rune for name in the top left-hand corner of this larger one."

He nodded as she pulled the door open. There wasn't much inside. On the back wall an ornate blade hung, its gleaming metal held a certain quality. One that he was familiar with.

"It's made from Demon metal. It's for you." He heard her say as he walked up to lightly finger the curvature of the weapon. Then he turned and his eyes widened. There on the shelf were two large silvery crystal like chunks. His eyes darted to her and then back to the them. Amantis.

"How did you?"

"Dom Pierre liked to talk, and after some wine he really liked to talk. He may have mentioned hearing about some lesser demons bragging about obtaining some, and I decided to capitalize on the situation." She grinned cheekily. "There were other things he said too, which is why I got them to begin with." She shrugged. And moved out of the door. "I know there isn't much in there, but in time. I'm sure we will.

"Why is there a vault here though if we are the only ones living here?" He crossed his arms leaning in the doorway.

"I wasn't sure if you would need to bring your shadowhunters here from time to time. For meetings or whatever. So I figured we should have a space to place important stuff just in case one of them decided to double cross you, or at least attempt to. I was just taking precautions." She bit her lower lip nervously, he could tell she was unsure of herself around him, and he relished in the idea that he could make her feel like that. It wasn't the same as before when they were in the other house. Where she had walked on eggshells because she was wary of his motives. This time it was because she wanted to please him and she wasn't sure if she was doing a good job or not.

"And how little sister did you happen to achieve all of this?" One hand gesturing outwardly before tucking it back into the fold of his other arm. She smiled.

"Before I gave the White book to Magnus Bane I tore a few pages out, and was saving them. I had hid them in a place no one could find them. Those pages are what I used to barter with the Warlock Dom Pierre. To create this space. The other things." She looked over her shoulder a moment and then looked back to him. "I don't have any money to spend, but I found other ways to barter." She shrugged.

"With what?"

She held up her stele. "With this." She grinned. "I can place runes old, or of my creation on downworlders. Ones that stay, ones that fade. Ones that they hold dual purposes." She tucked the stele into the small of her back and casually reached for him, pulling him out of the door and then closing the vault. Her rune disappeared, leaving only the larger one intact. And then she made her way out of the library and turned towards their room. He followed again.

"I've been able to tie up several loose ends that way. The dual purpose runes. Those lesser demons that I got the Amantis from, for instance. Wanted several runes that made them stronger, more agile, much like the ones we place on ourselves when we go out to fight. The only thing is, that they weren't expecting is that while they did become stronger and whatever else. I added a rune that caused them to explode if they over exerted themselves." As she spoke she waked into the bathroom pulling the tie from her hair. Her curl fell down her back. He followed her and stood in the doorway watching her.

"I'm impressed. You've been busy Clarissa."

She smiled up at him then turned away, and to his utter surprise began to strip in front of him. It was casual as if she had done it several times. His head tilted to the side as she opened the door to the shower and turned the nozzles. Water began to fall from the large one at the top and steam began to fill the room. And then as she stepped in she looked over her shoulder a little bashful. "Are you coming in?"

There were very few moments in Jonathan's life that he had ever been bewildered, confused or stumped. And yet he doubted that those words could quite sum up the entirety of the situation as he stood there watching his sister slink into the shower after having just stripped in front of him. But there was also another thing that Jonathan had rarely ever been accused of, and that was stupidity. A moment later he was quickly divesting himself of his clothing in haste as she made his way to the shower, and then stepped in behind her.

She turned slowly, her hair now wet fell down her back like a waterfall, the water making her hair darker and her skin lighter. The smattering of freckles highlighted by the water droplets that accumulated on her face. She gazed up at him through her lashes, her hands moving sure up his chest and down his arms. She reached up to pull at his neck whispering just before their lips touched in a reverent tone.

"Finally."

He didn't know what to make of it, but he didn't care. Because right now his sister was kissing him. His mind flashed to their kiss in Idris. He had thought it was good, but even then he could feel that she was holding back. But not now. Now she was giving it her all. He remembered trying to coax her into a kiss before at the last house before she bit him. He thought she tasted so good, and he had enjoyed it even if she wasn't reciprocating. This was defiantly better. He slid his hands down her sides and down over her hips and reached down to cup her bottom. He lifted her then and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist pressing herself against him.

He was right, she was soft, yet he could feel her strength. He moved to press her up against the tiled wall, his lips leaving hers to trail down her jaw and neck. One hand supporting her while the other covering her left breast. He smiled as his mouth worked over her slick flesh. It fit perfectly into his hand.

Her fingers were twisted in the pale hair at the name of his neck; her soft mewls and pants of pleasure urging him on. He couldn't wait to be buried within her. He had wanted to do this since that night in the shop in Prague. She had been mesmerizing to watch when she fought, and when she had vaulted over the counter and killed the demon….He had never been more jealous of Jace than in that moment. That was until he felt the scratches on his back later that night, and then later the same night Jace had returned from taking care of Magdalena.

Even now he was upset that Jace had gotten to her first, and as he kissed her and pressed her into the wall he couldn't help but swear that he would be the only one to touch her ever again.

He couldn't help himself, he couldn't wait any longer. His hand moved down between them and he positioned himself at her entrance. He wanted to savor the moment, the feel of sinking into her warmth. He felt her tighten her grip on him as he buried his head into the curve of her neck, and slowly started to push his cock into her.

He blinked. Something wasn't right, there was a resistance that he only knew to be ….he paused and moved his head back to star wide eyed at her. Her own expression was a little wary. He could tell she was a little frightened and the color that spread across her cheeks had nothing to do with the hot water that sprayed around them.

"Clar…Clary?" He panted in credulous. His already hard cock seeming to get harder still as he realized what was happening. She just looked at him her eyes shining in their vulnerability. Then reached up to cup his cheek with her hand. "You were wrong…" she shook her head a small smile playing on her kiss bruised lips. And then she leaned forward so her lips brushed his ear, "A garden is your…" she never finished because right then his hips plunged forward impaling her.

He couldn't help it. Gods he couldn't help himself. He felt her shudder around him and against him as he held her against the wall. Letting her adjust. He found her lips again coaxing her to open up to him, and when his tongue delved into her mouth he groaned as she swiveled her hips urging him to start. For a fleeting moment he wondered who had replaced his sister with the wonton creature in his arms. She undulated and writhed. Met his thrusts and called out his name with such carnal ferocity that he wasn't sure how much longer he could last. Not to mention her virgin status had left her tight and how he felt every stoke and pulse, every quiver and quake that spasmed through her as she sang the pleasures of their love making. Her nails and teeth scratching and scraping at his skin only served to goad him on.

Suddenly he felt it, her body tensed and gripped him her nails dug into her back as she tightened her hold on him enfolding him in her embrace like a vice. Both his body and his cock with in her. It didn't take much then, a dozen strokes and he was following her. When he felt his release hit him, he had pressed into her as far as he could burying himself as deep as her tight hole would let him. He felt her shudder violently again signaling another orgasm had hit her.

He had told her once that he would make sure she enjoyed it, and now pure male pride filled him as it was confirmed that he had made good on his word.

Panting harshly he barely mustered the strength to pull out of her, but he never put her down. He simply held her under the water so the stream could wash away some of the mess. Then he turned off the shower and stepped out grabbing a towel he sat her on the counter where she laid back against the mirror. A lazy satisfied smile on her lips.

"That was much better than in my dreams." She blushed as she wrapped a towel around her.

"Dreams you say?"

She blushed darker, if that was possible but nodded. "Every night for weeks."

After drying himself off and then making sure she was dry, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Where he laid her down and then crawled in next to her. She snuggled in next to him, their skin still warm from the combination of the shower and sex. He had woken up not long ago, but suddenly he was tired and if she wanted him to be there while she slept, he wasn't sure if he would have left anyway.

**AN~ BOOM CHICKa ;P ~D.I**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Clary woke up to the gentle sound of her brother's heartbeat in her ear. His arms wrapped possessively around her as she head rested on his chest. She smiled and snuggled closer, his grip tightened. She lifted her head momentarily to stare out the window. The sun streamed through casting long shadows into the room. Late afternoon. She then turned her attention to the boy, no the man under her. Because she knew first hand now that he was no boy. He might have been young, but she knew he had seen more, had done more than most men ever hope to in their lives. At least mundane men. But she couldn't help but think that even by shadowhunter standards he was well aged in experience.

Carefully she reached up to lightly brush a bit of his hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. His pale hair, like corn silk fell between her fingers like water. Man she wished her hair was like that. But oh no. Her head was a mess of curls, bright red ones that never did what she wanted them to, and she had freckles.

Jonathan got the eyebrows the soft silky hair, the artisan fingers. It just wasn't fair. But at the same time she delighted in the fact that she had been the one to make him come undone earlier.

"How many times had she practiced that line in her waking hours? How many times has she said it in her dreams? Only to finally be able to say it for real and then then have him cut her off by defiling her, finally. She smiled then, and stretched up to place a chaste kiss to his lips and then settled down again.

He moved slightly murmuring quietly, "Don't start something you're not going to finish." And pulled her closer to him. She giggled.

"I thought you were sleeping."  
"I was, but then when you have a beautiful naked woman laying next to you and she starts moving and then kisses you. It's hard to stay that way." He smirked eyes still closed.

They lay there like that for a few minutes, neither wanting to move. Both quite content. Clary finally looked up at him, only to startle slightly to find him staring at her. "What?" she asked. His hand came up, the backs of his fingers gently stroking her cheeks. His voice was soft and seemed vulnerable when he finally spoke, but she wasn't sure.

"Not that I'm complaining about the turn of events, but why? What changed your mind?" She frowned and then turned to lie on her back resting her head in the crook of his arm.

"After we went back to the institute after the battle I thought everything would be okay. I had him back." She felt him stiffen, and so she turned and pulled his other arm over her forcing him to turn on his side. She began to trace lazy patterns on his skin trying to ease him.

"He began to pull away. Because of the Heavenly fire coursing through him. I mean, we still talked and hung out, but he wouldn't touch me. Not a brush of the finger tips, not a kiss. And while I understood his fear…..I think I secretly began to resent him."

She felt him stiffen again, so she threaded her hand into his and then cover it with the other.

"I told him one day how I felt, that even though, I knew he only had the best intentions, I sometimes wished we were still in the dimension house. Because even though he was bound to you, and I disliked that….I could touch him. That it was like I had gotten a taste of something and then had it taken away. He reacted to deciding that he would stay away completely because of it….but I had told him all those things for a different reason."

She paused taking a nervous breath.

"I had been feeling guilty because I had been dreaming of you. Our last fight at the dimension house had ended very differently…."

She felt him rather than heard him chuckle. A squeeze of the hand and the press of his lips in her hair.

"I had to leave the institute. I couldn't face any of them. I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. But I didn't care; all of a sudden there was nothing left for me there."

"How did you hide yourself? I had been keeping track of you and then all of a sudden you just disappeared. I almost stormed the institute myself looking for you." She grinned.

"I created a rune that rendered me untraceable. I am the all-powerful rune girl." She giggled shrugging.

"Clever, go on. You still haven't answered my question."

"Well, while I was hiding, I kept dreaming of you. Every time I slept, of all sorts of things, but in my dreams you only ever showed me you cared. And when I woke up I would think about our time spent at that house, of Idris. I don't approve of some of the things you did. I still don't like them, but I don't know.."

She tugged at one of her curls, playing with the ends.

"My heart started to change, certain looks you had given me stared to make sense, and I was thinking about how I had spent so much time looking for an ulterior motive of a specific kind. I failed to see anything else."

She looked up at him then, turning her body to be flush against his.

"And then I just had to see you, but I didn't know how or if you would even welcome me. And I remembered what I had told you about making amends. That and I was tired of sleeping in alleys or sitting in all night café's. So I started asking around. I traded some runes to downworlders for information. Little runes, for strength or temporary invisibility from mundanes. Nothing big. And I finally found out about the Warlock. After that it was a matter of finding you, at least getting a message to you. So I gambled on my gift for drawing."

She looked down at her hand tracing lazy circles on his shoulder.

"So I drew the side of your face. I once drew a feather on paper, and I felt it. I then created a rune for communication and drew it onto the picture, near your ear."

She lightly ran her fingertip there and felt him shiver slightly.

"And well, I think you know the rest." She smiled.

"Well that settles that, I will never underestimate the power a dream can have on influencing someone." He chuckled and she laughed relief spreading through them both.

"Jonathan? Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" he ran his fingers through her hair and she reached up to twist a bit of his at the nape of his neck.

"Have you figured out weapons for your shadowhunters yet?"

"Not really. I thought about using Demon metal, but it's not like you can run down to your local blacksmith for them either. Those kinds of weapons are very rare. I'm surprised you found the one you have in the vault. Why?"

"Well, while I was staying at Dom Pierre's he liked to talk. And one night he had had a bit too much to drink and we got to talking. And one of the topics we got onto was about Seraph blades, of how they are aligned with Heaven, but that got me thinking. How you aligned your mortal cup with a demon, and how it has given your shadow hunters their power. Why not create blades aligned not with Heaven but with a demonic alliance as well? Use a demons name to give it power rather than an angelic name." She looked up to see him staring down at her wide eyed.

"You know, I think you are grossly underestimated." He kissed her, and then pulled back, "That's' what those chunks of Amantis were for weren't they?"

She nodded. "I didn't know if you could change the alliance of a blade already aligned with Heaven. So I searched for some raw material. Lucky for me somehow a stupid lesser demon had found some and didn't understand my runes. I just didn't know how to go about making a blade out of the stuff, so I figured I'd leave that bit to you."

"What a clever, clever little sister I have." He kissed her again, and sat up. "Come on I'm famished, and I want to see what kind of food you think I'm supposed to eat." He grabbed her up and threw her over his shoulder while she squealed laugh as they ran out of the room.

**A.N ~ Just a bit of pillowtalk I really hope everyone is enjoying the story. Please pretty plees REVIEW! My muse monkey luffs dem!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN~ Thanks for the reviews everyoe. Im glad that you are enjoying the story. XOXO ~D.I**

**Chapter 6**

"Clary?" She jumped as her brother's head popped into her studio. "There you are!" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"Here I am." She rolled her eyes, he was grinning. Not a normal grin either. There was an excitement in his eyes, something was up.

"Get dressed, gear, we're going out." He hit the wall a few times with his hand and then disappeared again.

She set her pencil down and ran to their bedroom, changed into her Shadowhunder clothes and grabbed her stele, and weapons belt. She was fixing her hair in a messy bun as walked down the stairs. Jonathan was already ready, and pacing. He stopped and looked at her when she came down just as she reached the bottom step.

"Finally. Come on." He grabbed her hand, and they blinked out of the living room. In the next moment Clary opened her eyes to find herself in a dark alley.

"Where are we?" She looked around as he began to pull her along. "We're in a small town somewhere in Siberia. Her eye's widened.

"What? Why Siberia?"

"Because that's where the next piece to our puzzle lives. Her name is Anika Pavlova, and she dear sister is another Iron sister that left The Clave. Much older than Magdelena was, and this time I'm not going to kill her."

"You're not?"

"Nope. I'm going to turn her dark." His smile shone in dark, his pale hair reminded her of a fresh snow in the moonlight. "I have a few friends keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn't leave. We should be just about th…." His words were cut off as they rounded a corner. There were two young men tied up both with dark hair and by any other description they would seem normal, except that in the darkness, Clary could see their eyes glowed. One an electric blue and the other yellow. Next to them leaning against the wall was another young man, maybe 20, as he lit a smoke Clary could see his hair was some shade of blond. In the dark it looked light brown so she thought maybe more sandy than golden. And when he finally turned to look at them his eyes glowed green.

Demons, the lot of them.

A smooth rich voice cut through the night. It seemed out of place to Clary, if they were in Siberia it should have been thick with an accent.

"Good evening friends. Sorry to disturb you but you see I'm looking for someone. I heard this rumor about a shadowhunter girl who could mark downworlders. You don't know this girl do you?" His deep voice resonated like syrup, thick and sweet. The sound caressing the air. It was unlike anything she had heard before. The sound ended as he flicked and bit of ash off his cigarette and took a long pull, snapping her out of her daze. Clary squeezed Jonathan's hand and he looked down at her. Then Jonathan turned back to the demon.

"And who might you be?" Jonathan smiled; Clary could tell that it was not the nice how do you do smile. It was the who do you think your fucking with smile and what do you what on your epitaph. She cringed, something wasn't right about this.

The young man regarded the two of them evenly then pushed off the wall, took another drag off his smoke and crossed his arms. "The name is Val Dolomir." Jonathan felt Clary stiffen but didn't look at her. "You see this Shadowhunter girl intercepted a delivery of some artifacts and I need them back."

"Oh?"

"A series of statuettes, a set. Very important to me and I want them back. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, do you?"

"Hmm, Can't say that I do." Jonathan lied smoothly; of course he knew where they were. In the library at the house. "So, if you'll excuse me, we really need to be going."

"I don't think so, Morgenstern." Jonathan stopped and narrowed his dark eyes at the young man. "I think that this is the girl, and I think you do know, and I think if you want to see her live, you're going to turn around the way you came and go. Get. Me. My. Statuettes." He flicked the cigarette to the ground and stared cold at Jonathan and Clary.

Clary felt Jonathan tremble with rage he released her hand, "I guess I have to take care of this. Please watch yourself." Clary nodded and stepped back, placing a hand on the hilt of a dagger in her weapons belt just in case. This couldn't be good; she worried more because she had heard the name Val before, but where?

The other man cracked his neck, "As you wish." And pulled out his own dagger seemingly from nowhere. Glamour, Clary thought.

The two stared at each other, the other tried to move to start circling Jonathan, but he wasn't going to let the guy get between him and his sister. The guy could make a break for Clary and there was no telling how that would go. This way he had a bit more control of the situation.

Val struck out first his dagger swiping through the air in a wide arc. The move was so fast Clary barely saw it. Thankfully her brother was fast as well and jumped back. A gasp caught in her throat as it had almost gotten him, but not quite. Jonathan smirked. "Nice try."

"I'll do better next time." The demon man returned and swiped again. This time his dagger blade was blocked as a soft chink echoed off the walls as the metal hit each other.

Clary saw movement and her attention was drawn to the two that were tied up. They were struggling to get out of their binds, but also had their eyes glued to the fight. When one winced Clary looked back just in time to see her brother bring his hand to his cheek. She gasped. A thin dark line was forming on his cheek and small beads of blood had formed. He looked down at his red fingers and then back to Val who was smiling smugly.

Jonathan charged his face, one of pure determination, "You cut my face."

Val shrugged, "It adds character. Don't you think?" He grinned, holding the blade up to block again. Swinging to the side at the last moment. Jonathan continued and ran up the wall that was behind Val and then flipped over behind him, He then crouched low and swung his foot out trying to get Val's feet out from under him, but Val jumped just in time. Jonathan swung his blade around in a low upwards arc meant to impale the other, but he only succeeded in barely cutting into the other's shirt when Val kicked out as he came down. Catching Jonathan in the shoulder.

"Nice try Morgenstern, I do believe you're going to owe me a new shirt as well now."

"Put it on my tab." Jonathan said as she lunged again.

Val grinned. "I'm going to kill you Morgenstern, as soon as I get what's mine. But before I do, I'm going to make you watch while I defile the pretty girl here." Clary's eyes widened and she stepped back automatically getting in a defensive position as her hand tightened on the hilt of her dagger even more.

"I'm going to watch her writhe while I take her apart piece by piece, and relish the moment as you watch unable to do anything about it." He cackled as Jonathan rushed him again.

"You won't lay a finger on her!" This time Jonathan seemed more determined; his jaw set. A new sense of purpose washed over him and it was like watching him come to life. He blocked each attack and then then landed a punch to Val's jaw. Both were bloody and panting heavily from the exertion. In a last ditch effort Val spun around and punched Jonathan in the kidneys then when he arched his back Val grabbed his hair and and swung the blade around almost slicing the pale-haired boys neck. Jonathan jerked back, the other underestimating his strength lost his footing and they both went tumbling down to the ground where they became a tangle of limbs and swinging arms rolling around on the ground.

Clary had her heart in her throat. They were getting closer to her so she moved in a wide arc to get around them to the others to finally cut their binds. She had just finished when one of them flinched and jerked back his eyes wide at something behind her. Turning quickly with her dagger to swipe blindly around in defense, Val stood there panting and hit her blade out of her hand.

"Now listen here you little thief." He growled as he reached for her.

Thief? Clary's mind shifted to another time.

**Third evening at the Warlock Dom Pierre's home.**

"I….'hic' …am a very….'hic' …important Warlock!"

"Yes Dom." Clary sighed. She couldn't help but wonder if there was AA for warlocks. He got like this a lot. The only good thing was that she learned a lot of things. Unsure if they would be useful. But they were interesting anyway. Dom got loose lipped after a good bottle of Merlot. What a lush she thought.

"I have someone…..'hic' …..Coming by to show…me..'hic' …. Something." His blood shot grey eyes found hers. She also thought if he spent more time working on her house and less time drinking she might have been out of his hair by then. But apparently this one decided to have work hours, and then the rest time it was either happy hour or sleep.

"Should I go to the guest room?" He shook his head, and she had to suppress a shudder as spittle flew from the side of his mouth.

"I was just..'hic'… I was just letting you know…. Demon." He turned her head waving his hand, as if to brush the words he just spoke away from himself.

"Oh." It was up to her, be seen, not be seen. She decided to stay, if for nothing else curiosity. There was a harsh knock on the door and she decided that it was probably too late to run then anyway. So she just sat there drinking a hot cup of tea while Dom stumbled towards the door and whipped it open.  
"Your late!" he spat. Then stepped back allowing a shifty looking boy who couldn't be any older than sixteen.

"I got held up. Val kept stalling and wouldn't tell me where to go. I thought he was going to take the gig away." The boy hoisted a backpack off his shoulder and set it down carefully on the table. He looked her over a slight glimmer in his eyes as his lips curled in distaste. "A Nephilim Dom? What the fuck is this shit? You setting me up?" The boy looked between her and Dom. Clary just rolled her eyes.

"Calm down..'hic'….Ix. She is a…'hic' " Dom cleared his throat and drank some water. "She's a customer."

"She must be desperate." Ix quipped. Earning him a glare from Dom. Clary just smiled into her mug.

"Anyway, this is what he had me get. Said something about he couldn't live without them." Ix shrugged as he pulled out several small statuettes. Not unlike figurines but a little larger. He had used pieces of ripped egg crate foam in his bag to keep them from getting damaged. Clary couldn't imagine they traveled well especially in a backpack. A box maybe, with lots of newspaper or bubble wrap.. but she guessed if it was something he had to snatch quickly then travel choices were limited.

Dom scoffed. Valefor is a vagrant. Demon of thieves indeed. He sees something and has to get get it no matter what. Even sending a peon like you to go fetch it for him." He waved dismissively as he drank some more water. "Not to mention his children who by the way couldn't magic themselves properly out of an open door." Ix and Clary just stared at him openly talking about the demon kid's boss, who apparently was a demon as well, and not just any demon, but one with a job in hell.

Clary turned her gaze to the statuettes again. They were of people in various states stages of sadness. They were beautiful in a sad way. The peculiar thing was is, she wasn't sure of the medium though used to create them. Marble? Plaster, wood? She didn't' want to touch them. As it was they looked dark red, with black in the grooves and creases. Like each one had been blackened by flame and then certain areas were sanded down.

Dom didn't look impressed and shook his head, "I don't want any worthless decorations." And strode off towards the hall. Probably to the bathroom Clary figured. She turned back to the pieces.

"Why are you selling them if your boss 'can't live without them'?"

"If I can make a profit out of it or find something worth my while. I've gotta look out for me. Not doing Val's dirty work for some eye candy for his pad. If they were really so important. He would have sent some one higher in the food chain than me."

That argument did make sense but something seemed off about the situation to her anyway. And for some reason she wanted those statuettes. "What do you want for them?" The boy looked her up and down skeptically.

"What do you got." Damn Clary thought, not much. Except…

"I could mark you with runes."

"Runes? No thanks, runes can kill."  
"Not mine. My runes are …special."

Clarity dawned on the boy suddenly as his eyes widened. "Your THAT girl? The Clave is looking for you. That blond living glow stick is threatening the accords with his crazy. And your brother is looking for you too, That stunt you pulled has made it hard for others to deal with him. He's so pissed at you."

Clary tensed gripping her cup but waved it off, "My brother will get over it. Not sure about Jace though." She shrugged, he's kind of a jerk."

He looked thoughtful, Clary could see the cogs working in his head. "I'm not sure what I'm getting myself into If it was anyone else, your brother might pay for the information leading him to you, but he's so pissed off he'd likely torture it out of me and then kill me once he did get it. I go to the crazy nephilim and he'll defiantly kill me. And then I'm not sure if your runes will kill me, There is a lot to consider here."  
"I could hide you." Clary shrugged.

"Hide me?"  
"Yes, hide you H-I –D-E you. One permanent rune. You can never be traced unless you destroy the rune yourself. And I'll give you another rune of your choice. Strength, agility…..fearlessness, for example." She took a drink from her cup. "I just want the statuettes and the promise that you won't tell Jace or my brother where I am."

It didn't take long for him to consider. Demons were always greedy, and anything that could give him a one up from the others was always what they were looking for. "I want to know things, things that others don't. Like before they happen."

"Enhanced perception or foresight?"  
"Foresight."

She nodded and took out her sketch pad and pencil. Holding her pencil to the paper she concentrated. Focused on the word, the idea, the fact that it was for a demon. She thought of how it would look and soon even though her eyes were closed her pencil began to move across the page. When she opened her eyes she nodded and then stood taking out her Stele and looked at the boy. "Where do you want it?"

"Does it matter?"  
Clary thought about this for a moment. "I'm not sure. I've never placed a future telling rune on some one. I guess it would have limitations. Be focused in the point of where it is. Like, if it were on your hand, then you could only tell the future about that object or things going on around that object. If it was on your head you might just be able to think about something. But honestly that could get tiresome. Since your always thinking."

He looked at her bewildered, she could tell he hadn't thought of that.

"Okay on my hand, on the palm so it's harder to see." She nodded and held out her hand, he placed his hand in hers and she began. She felt him wince a little as the burn ran over his skin, but he stayed still. And when she was done he looked down at his hand and then looked around the room. He touched the table. Closing his eyes for a minute.

"Dom is going to want to move from here soon." He blinked and then looked at her. "That was strange. Not what I expected. I didn't see anything, but I got a strong feeling that Dom was planning to leave. It was absolute, like he already had it planned out."

Clary shrugged. "Runes are complicated. Sometimes they work the way you want them to, and sometimes they have their own way of expressing themselves. Now where do you want the hiding rune?"

He lifted his shirt with a cocky grin and patted the skin over his heart. She gave him a dry look. "What? If we're going with your theory on where to put runes, then it would make sense to put it near my heart. You might not think we have one in the sentimental aspect of things but we still have one pushing blood through us."

"Fine." And Clary stepped closer and drew the rune. "Now your hidden."

"How do you know it works?"

Clary lifted her sleeve to show her arm, "Because I'm using one. Which is why The Clave and my brother can't find me."

"He nodded. "Fair enough. "Then reached for the bag to finish pulling out the last one and froze. His eyes got shot open and he looked at her and then back to the figurines. "Oh shit.." He looked panicked.

"What?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. fuck." he swore cussing and grabbing at his hair. "I'm gonna die. Val is going to kill me! I'm so dead there's nowhere to go nowhere to hide. I'm gonna…." He trailed off and started pacing.

"For shit sake calm the fuck down. He can't find you. Super rune remember?" Clary crossed her arms when he stopped to look at her incredulous.

"You don't understand. When I touched that….I felt.. I felt him. Valefor."

"What do you mean you felt him."

"I thought it was a rumor, a myth, urban legend. But there was a story that Val never trusted anyone with the most important parts of himself. Demons don't have souls, but unlike popular belief we do have the capacity to love, and I mean other than ourselves. But it's rate. And when it happens we are…..overcome. And if our feelings aren't returned then we go ballistic. Stalker crazy jealous killing spree that usually ends up getting the one who denied us love, killed. Valefor didn't trust himself to keep his head. And at the moment he found himself falling for someone. He pulled that capacity out of himself and placed it in several objects. These changed over time. Or so they say.. and.. right now. It looks like these."

Clary couldn't fathom the idea of doing something like that and couldn't stop herself from asking, "Why didn't he have them with him in the first place?"

"I don't know. All I was told was to retrieve them. But if what I heard is true, and what I felt in there is right…" he shook his head.

"What?" Clary was becoming impatient. Her curiosity brimming and he was being a little punk by taking too long to spit it out.

"Okay so when demons get offed here, we get sent back to wherever. Val is a greater demon. He'd float around in the void until he was strong enough but if he wasn't whole when he was offed then he wouldn't be able to reform properly. Not without a ritual I mean there is a chance he could reform but, he would be jacked up. You see he was whole when he got here and even though he is separate from parts right now. He was whole when he came in, so he's not weird looking, or acting weird. Say he did get killed and somehow reformed. He would either A: look weird, or B: look normal but act strange. Or C: both. I'm betting on both. Because our character can be expressed visually. Tats why even with identical twins if their personalities as polar opposites, people can tell. I mean it can be hard, but it can happen. But with demons it's like insane. He could come out looking like a slug and be a genius." He rubbed his face. "I'd renig but I think you can kick my ass, and if your rune really does work then I need to go to some place like….Guam." And without another word, he left.

Clary stood there staring at the door and then to the statues, Dom must have passed out. So she packed up the statuettes and put them in the guest room. Wondering what the hell she had just gotten herself into yet again.

Present time

Val stood over her seething, clary chanced a glance behind him to see her brother pulling himself up, but it was slow. Val must have gotten lucky because she knew her brother would get him.

"I think it's time for you to get my belongings little girl."

"Okay, I'll go. Just don't hurt me Valefor."

That startled him. "You know who I am? And you still defy me?"  
Behind Val her brother's head had turned sharply to look at them, "The thief demon?"

Val growled low in his throat and turned around, "I really would prefer the term opportunist. Do I need to kick your ass again?"

"You hurt him and I'll never return your heart."

Both of the boys froze. Jonathan's eyes opening wider with understanding and then Val turning her eyes narrowed with hatred. "What did you say?"

"I know what they are, and I know what will happen if you die. We won't kill you but you won't see your precious statuettes until my brother and I decided that it's in our best interests to do that. I mean you could kill us I guess, but then they will be lost and if someone else kills you then you're either doomed to nothing or doomed to look like shit."

Valefor looked between the two Clary had crossed her arms and Jonathan stood there ready with his retrieved dagger. A mix of smugness and pride for his sister.

The other two boys had run off leaving just the three of them. "One day Morgenstern siblings will feel my wrath, mark my words you two. I will have my revenge." And with that he disappeared in a cloud of miasma. Clary rushed to her brother and hugged him then grabbed his arm and her stele and quickly traced an Iratze.

He looked down at her. "Just what have you gotten us into little sister?" He smiled down at her and she grinned shrugging innocently. Which made him laugh, and the both of them continued on their way. They had wasted enough time, and they needed to get to Anika's.


End file.
